by Dannika Dark
Glass glanced at his watch. “You should consider the kind of men you hire to represent you, Kazan. One loose screw can make everything fall apart.”
Both Shepherd and I stood up at the same time, and I gave the body one last appraisal to try to find something similar between the two victims besides their hair color. She wasn’t dressed as conservatively, and I couldn’t say if she was missing a jacket since the sweater would have kept her warm enough. I began to realize how DNA evidence would be pointless. The higher authority didn’t even keep records of fingerprints.
“When they take her body, do they check for DNA samples?” I asked. I already knew the answer from what everyone had told me, but I wanted to hear it from the detective.
“Raven, we can discuss later,” Viktor said.
Glass pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as if tired. “That’s all right. She’s new. You know how strict the slander laws are. We can collect all the hairs and blood we want, but if we ask someone for their sample to compare with what we found, we better be one hundred percent sure that person is the killer. Gossip lasts centuries and can ruin a man’s reputation and career, even if he’s proven innocent. Just remember, Miss Black, this doesn’t work like the crime shows you’ve seen on TV.”
“Were the other victims blondes?” I asked.
He inclined his head. “Most of them, yes. But we haven’t definitively linked each one as related. All we have are drained victims on our hands.”
Maybe we could automatically rule out any brunette victims as unrelated to the case.
“Did anyone take pictures?”
He shook his head and watched Christian speed off on his bike. “When they link murders, they assign one of us to the case so we can write up a report and keep the information in here,” he said, tapping on his head. “I think it’s safe to say the victims were human, but to err on the side of caution, the higher authority doesn’t want pictures. It’s against regulation.”
“What about the pictures on our fake driver’s licenses?”
He smiled and tilted his head to the side. “That’s attached to your alias. Humans will never make the connection to your true identity if there’s a name attached to the picture.” He studied me for a moment. “Viktor said you’re new, but are you also newly made?”
I flicked a worried glance at Viktor, who quickly intervened.
“We appreciate your cooperation, Detective Glass. Has anyone filed a missing-person report?”
“I haven’t checked this morning, but we haven’t received any in the past that matched up with our victims.”
“How is it possible there wasn’t a struggle?” I wondered aloud, noticing how clean the front of her sweater appeared. She didn’t have a mark on her body that I could see.
Glass tucked his hands in his coat pockets. “I suspect he charms his victims to do his bidding. That’s what makes Vampires so dangerous.” He turned to face Viktor. “Remember that, Kazan. I’d hate to see it come back to bite you.”
Shepherd yawned and headed back to the van. I could see that Viktor had trained the rest of the team to do their job, so they didn’t stick around to ask questions. They left that job to Viktor.
Glass approached me, his voice soft. “You’re a clever Mage to have noticed their hair.”
“Everything else is different,” I said. “This one has makeup on, the other didn’t. She’s dressed more sophisticated, like a businesswoman out on the town. They don’t look like prostitutes. Usually killers are attracted to victims with similar qualities. Maybe he has issues with his mother.”
Glass stammered. “Say again?”
I tapped my finger against my chin. “If they were all natural blondes, then they were selected for that reason. Maybe his mother was a blonde and didn’t love him enough.”
Glass coughed into his hand and turned away. “Kazan, you should have a talk with your Vampire about sticking around in case we need someone before the cleaners arrive. This is the human district, and someone might get curious about what’s behind your van.”
I rocked on my heels. “These shops aren’t opening for another three hours,” I informed him, drawing from my personal knowledge of life on the streets. “It’s Sunday, and people like to sleep in. No one’s going to be poking around in the alley unless they’re walking their dog, and there aren’t any apartments around here.”
Glass looked over his shoulder at me. “Nevertheless, we can’t take chances.”
He lifted a few large boxes and dragged them in front of the body to shield it. “I’d like to schedule a meeting to talk further on the case,” he said to Viktor. “If we put our heads together, we might come up with something. I’d also like to speak with Miss Black since she appears to have some insight.”
I shrugged indifferently. “Fine by me.”
As Glass walked by me, he said in a quiet voice, “Good. Then it’s a date.”
“What do you think he meant by date?” I asked Gem, who was sulking by the dining room window behind me.
“An appointment. What else?” She turned away and joined me in the booth against the middle wall. “How’s your stomach?”
I stirred my chicken soup. Why the hell did I have to drink so much? My stomach hurt, and there was nothing I could do but wait it out. “I’m never drinking again.”
She lifted the tea bag from her cup and set it on a napkin. “That’s what they all say. And quit overthinking his comment. Even if he meant it, he’s not a bad-looking guy. Not my type at all, but you two might have fun together.”
“Too old?”
She sipped her tea. “I couldn’t date a man who’s so used to seeing dead bodies that it doesn’t rouse any kind of emotion out of him.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Even Shepherd got emotional, and he barely ever cracks a smile.”
I wondered if Gem noticed I shared the same trait as Glass. I felt terrible seeing a woman murdered, but not enough to look away or shed a tear. It made me wonder if I was missing some essential component that normal people had.
Christian strode into the room. “What are you two whispering about?” He sat beside me, forcing me to scoot over on the bench to make room.
Gem gave me an impish grin. “We’re just talking about her date.”
“Is that so?” he said, lifting the spoon out of my soup bowl to have a taste. “And who’s the lucky fella?”
“Detective Glass.”
Christian choked on the soup and went into a coughing fit. “When did all this happen?”
I shook my head at Gem, who was trying in vain to conceal her smile. “Maybe you shouldn’t have left the crime scene so fast. Someone could have walked up on us, and you wouldn’t have been around to scrub their memory.”
“Your good detective said the cleaners were on the way, and they usually bring along a Vampire.” He shoved the soup bowl in front of me. “Since when do you take a fancy to Chitahs?”
I couldn’t help but notice the disdain in his voice even though he was trying to appear casual. “Is it so difficult to believe that a man is interested in me? And don’t be so judgmental about interbreeding. None of the women I’ve seen you with were Vampires.”
He nodded, scratching his chin in thought. Then a smile played on his lips. “Perhaps we should double-date.”
As he turned to catch my reaction, I felt my stomach do a flip-flop. Glass probably hadn’t meant anything by the remark, but now I worried that Christian might mention it to Viktor, and something told me my boss wouldn’t approve. I decided this would be a good opportunity to see if Christian was the kind of partner who went around sharing my business with other people.
He stood up to leave and gave me an uncomfortably long look. “Ladies,” he said, inclining his head.
Once Christian left the room, I resumed eating my soup. “Do you ever go out on dates?”
Gem tilted her head to the side, her voice soft. “Men aren’t interested in short girls with violet eyes. They want long legs, large b
reasts, and a face that’ll launch a thousand ships. That’s why I’m always striking out whenever Blue’s around. Isn’t that funny? She doesn’t want them, and they don’t want me. Nobody goes home happy.” Gem giggled and stared down at her cup.
That seemed odd. “You’re a Mage,” I pointed out. “There aren’t as many Mage women as men.”
She sipped her tea and set down the cup. “True.” She cupped her hand around her mouth. “I don’t like to flare in public.”
I raised my brows. “So you don’t tell men you’re a Mage?”
She shrugged. “If they ask. But most never get far enough in conversation to ask. Think about it, Raven. They only like us because we can bind energy with them. I’ve spent my life fighting men who wanted me for the wrong reasons. I just want a man to come up to me because he thinks I’m interesting, not because he knows I’m a Mage and wants to juice me up or bind with my light.”
“So you’re telling me you never go out with men? Not even Claude? He seems to like you.”
“Claude likes all women. He’s a Chitah. Blue’s not as demonstrative as I am, so that’s why Claude and I look chummy. Don’t be surprised if he starts showing you affection. Claude’s a beautiful soul, and I hope someday he finds his kindred spirit. Viktor had a sense of humor in pairing us up,” she said, leaning back against the bench. “Claude eclipses me, and walking next to him, I look more like his illegitimate daughter.” She smiled for a moment, her inky-black lashes fanning down. “I’ve gone on a few dates, but the only ones who ask me out are desperate or immature. I guess they see the way I dress and think I’m a girl who just likes to have fun—and I am. But that’s not all there is to me.”
I set my spoon down. “What is it you’re looking for?”
She leaned forward with a fragile smile. “I want a man who looks at me as if no other woman matters. I won’t settle for anything less, and that’s why I’ll remain eternally single. We’re all searching for someone who doesn’t exist.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve got confidence, personality, and a unique look. You’re not pretending to be someone you’re not. If you want to settle down, you will. If not, then just have fun. I’ve heard most immortals aren’t looking for marriage anyhow.” I stirred my spoon in the bowl. “Just imagine living with someone for thousands of years. Thousands.”
“Not if he’s a Shifter or someone with a shorter lifespan.” She swung the crystal pendant hanging from her neck. “Alas, most of them don’t want anything to do with a Mage. Anyhow, I’m just teasing. I can’t imagine leaving Keystone to become someone’s bride. Jobs like ours are hard to come by, especially with all the perks we’ve got. Namely the swimming pool. Plus I’m good at what I do, and I wouldn’t give this up for anything. What about you?”
“I don’t date.”
“Even for fun?”
I warmed my hands around the soup bowl. “I don’t really miss it because I’ve never been in love. Not the way you’re supposed to be when you want to spend forever with someone. The only thing I miss is…”
Gem leaned in. “Yes?”
“It sounds ridiculous.”
“I’m not going to tell anyone. Cross my heart,” she said, tracing an invisible X over her breast.
“I miss kissing. Not the sloppy, desperate kind right before you have sex, but that slow burn, like when they lean in close, cup your face in their hands, and breathe you in. Then he puts his mouth against yours, but he waits for just a second, making you think about it so you want it even more. I miss that heat and chemistry you feel when you first kiss a man and just know he’s the kind of guy you want to take to bed.”
She fanned herself. “You’re making me miss it too.”
We both laughed.
“Don’t you get bored around here between jobs?” I asked.
Gem didn’t go in the rock-climbing room much, and aside from the television and games, the only thing left to do was read from the musty old books on various bookshelves throughout the mansion.
She blew a heated breath on her spoon and balanced it on her nose. “Most of us work. Either Viktor gives us an assignment, or we do our usual duties.”
That struck me as odd since no one had mentioned anything. “You mean chores?”
“Well, those too.” When the spoon fell off her nose, she stood up. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
Gem led me across the mansion to the hall that wrapped around the east wing. Her black-and-white platform sneakers with the two-inch lift squeaked softly against the floor as we went.
I loved the stone walls and arched ceilings. Some windows were latticed, while others were stained glass. The architects who designed this place did so with great care, putting detail in everything from the shape of the stone banisters to the arched entranceways and wood doors. It made me feel as though I’d stepped back in time and entered the Middle Ages.
She veered left where the recessed wall revealed a cozy space large enough for a bench or two. Some of the halls had these little alcoves, and while they often had chairs, this one did not. She reached behind the lantern on the right and struck a match, lighting the wick inside. Gem lifted the lantern from the hook and then faced the wall. When she placed her hand on a stone, it pushed in, and the wall turned like a revolving door, just enough for us to slip through the open crack on the right side.
“Where are we?” I asked in the darkness, my voice reverberating off the walls.
Gem closed the wall behind us and strode forward, the lantern casting enough light to reveal the high ceiling. She set the lantern on a table and began lighting more that were either hanging on the wall or resting on tables. “This is where I work.”
“You have your own secret room?” I admired the surrounding walls, which were nothing but wooden shelves filled with books and curiosities.
“This house has many secrets.” Every candle and lantern she lit made the room even more luminous. “Isn’t it beautiful? The shelves were already here, and they’re perfect for what I do.”
I drifted toward the large wooden desk in the center of the room, which sat on top of an emerald-green rug trimmed in gold. “And what exactly do you do?”
She put her knee on a chair and rested her elbows on the distressed wood finish. “I translate. It’s the perfect space for my work, and nobody disturbs me in here. That’s the golden rule since interpreting information requires concentration.”
I turned the pages of an old book.
“And that is the bane of my existence,” she said gruffly. “Everything in this room has ancient writing on it or in it. Some of these books contain languages I’ve never seen before, so there’s a lot of etymological research. I look at how language has evolved, but sometimes I have to go backwards and figure out how it began. Some of these came from Breeds that are extinct, but we can’t lose or dispose of them, because they’re a part of our history.”
“So this is a museum?”
She grinned. “Sort of. It’s more like a historical preservation archive. Relic hunting not only turns up clues on modern crimes, but we find all kinds of historical artifacts that need to be preserved and interpreted. Sometimes we find things that Viktor wants to make sure don’t fall into the wrong hands. At least, not until we understand what we have. I once found an old cup with an inscription at the base, and it took me over a year to track down the language and break it apart so I could translate it. Turns out it belonged to some ancient Mage who died over a thousand years ago. The writing was the names of his progeny.”
“What happened?”
“Well, we tracked down the names and found that two of them were still alive. Viktor sensed something was fishy when they pretended not to know the guy. I think that was probably Christian’s first job with Keystone. He charmed them for information, and it turns out they murdered their Creator for his fortune. Can you believe that?”
“Wow.” I took a seat in the chair beside her.
“No kidding. We handed them over
to the Mageri, and I think there was a trial. They didn’t get the death penalty, but I heard they’re serving time. Karma catches up with you,” she said in a singsong voice.
“That’s really amazing.”
She stood up from the chair. “I don’t understand why Viktor drags me along on these murder cases. If there’s something I need to see, photograph it and show me later. All going to the crime scene does is make me sad.”
I ran my finger through the flame. “He asks you because you’re smart. He asks me because I’ve seen a lot of dead bodies.”
Gem held up her fingers, and a spark of light danced between her fingertips. “I hope whoever did it gets what’s coming to him. Just think, those two men we caught lived for a thousand years before their crime was uncovered, and you don’t want to know how they killed their Creator.” She shivered and walked away from the desk, her long shadow following behind her. “I thought when Viktor hired you that it was a good sign I wouldn’t have to see any more dead bodies.”
I traced my finger around a knot in the wood. “Maybe once I get the hang of things.”
She pulled out an old book and thumbed through it.
“What’s that one?” I asked.
She turned around. “This morning I got a close look at a tattoo that Shepherd noticed on the victim’s shoulder. They were words written in another language—one I’m familiar with because there’s only one tribe that speaks it. Sometimes people get ideas from tattoo artists, so I’m trying to find out where that pocket of Shifters settled. It’s in one of these old books, but I can’t remember which one. If the settlement was here in the States, then Wyatt’s going to check all the registered tattoo artists to see if any of them are associated with the tribe. She could have gotten the tattoo a million years ago, so it’s a shot in the dark.”
I stood up and pushed in the chair. “I haven’t heard from Wyatt since we came home. Maybe I should go check on him and give you some privacy.”
After a few long seconds, Gem looked up from her book and blinked. “What?”
